View from the Hall
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: A Human!Doctor and Clara live together but they don't shag a lot and one day after a particular movement from Clara, he is aroused so he hides in a room and uhh pleasures himself but Clara see it.


He still hadn't gotten used to having a woman in his apartment. Hadn't gotten used to the scented candles in the bathroom, or the fancy shampoo bottles that sat on the small window ledge, or the second toothbrush hanging just beside his. With a smile, he tapped the purple brush and spat the toothpaste out of his mouth, inching forward to examine the sleepy face that stared back at him. Too early on a Saturday to be awake, but, listening to the clinking in the kitchen, he sighed – his roommate wasn't the sort to sleep in late on a Saturday.

"Clara," he called as he exited, "I think we really should set some ground rules about this."

Moving down the hall, he turned a corner and found her climbed up on a step stool, bent in towards the cabinets that hung too high off the counter for her to reach the highest shelf, and the skirt she wore – those tiny short skirts that hugged at her body – had inched up with her efforts to search for the flour. The effect was, unfortunately, immediate, and he scratched at his head as she turned and gave him a smile as he tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, thankful for the looseness of the material that hung over him.

She gave him a sympathetic smile and offered lightly, "Sorry, John," she paused, smirking because the nickname he'd gotten from friends and had grown so used to hearing made her wonder just how he'd gotten it, and she imagined some naughty story waited for her, one day, " – _Doctor_ – did I wake you?"

Shaking his head, he slid his palm over the back of his neck and rubbed at his skin knowing he really should be going back to his room. Or into a cold shower. And he glanced up to see her straightening the skirt over her thighs, looking down at the offending bit of clothing before shifting her gaze back up to him.

Those dark innocent eyes that seemed to brighten when he got home in the evening after a long day of work. John loved those eyes and as he opened his mouth and uttered, "No, no, it's alright, I was awake – it's just a bit early for… whatever you're doing," he watched them blink at him before she smiled and turned back.

It was a lie; she'd woken him with the clang of a baking tin against the ceramic ramekin, but as much as he knew it should upset him. As much as he knew he should tell her that eight in the morning on a Saturday was just a few hours too early for her to be thinking about baking anything, much less a soufflé, he couldn't bring himself to. At least not yet. Maybe after a few weeks he'd get used to the sound, or he'd start to look forward to it.

"Funny," she muttered.

He bent slightly when she turned because he was becoming certain she could see the bulge in his pants, and the look she gave him was curious as he asked, "What's funny?"

"You hurt your back?" Clara asked him.

He straightened and she raised an eyebrow before he tried to sneak a look at himself while she hopped off the stool, "No, no, back's fine," then he asked again, "What's funny?"

"Thought I had flour," she gestured up before moving the step stool back to a corner and going to grab her purse, "Just gonna pop off to the market – want me to pick up anything for you?"

His smile was involuntary, and he half turned, pressing himself painfully against the counter to tell her, "No, don't think so."

The laugh she released was quick and he mimicked it, rubbing at his arms while unconsciously swaying his hips side to side lightly against the hard surface, grimacing when she finally nodded and moved to the door because he'd worked himself up now. He cupped himself gingerly and sighed up at the door before making his way back to his bedroom, tossing himself back first into the unkempt bed in a mess of creaks that disguised the sound of Clara re-entering the apartment.

She'd forgotten her keys.

The Doctor groaned as he pushed his hand past the elastic waistband of his sweats and gave himself one soft stroke before exhaling and then shifting, grabbing hold of his pants to yank them just enough down to expose his member to the cooler air, grinning when the sensation did nothing to deflate his growing erection. On the contrary, the gooseflesh sprinkling over his skin sent tingling shocks through his body and he closed his eyes as he wrapped his hand lightly around himself.

Clara glanced over the coffee table in the living room and she did a quick round of the kitchen, peering underneath the post and in between the coffee maker and blender and she bit her lip, finger thrusting into the air as she realized – she'd left them in her coat pocket. Which would be in her room at the end of the hall. With a small smirk, she glanced towards the Doctor's bedroom, door half closed, and she imagined he'd fallen back into bed for a few more hours sleep. Frowning suddenly, she twisted her wrist up and realized that maybe, just maybe, it was too early for a soufflé and she sighed, understanding she owed him an apology.

"_And ground rules_," she whispered.

She turned on the spot and headed towards the room, but stopped short, mouth dropping open slightly when she caught sight of him. It wasn't that she'd never seen a man naked, or that she'd never seen one handling himself, it was the one word he uttered just as she saw him. The last word she expected to hear and at first it didn't register, but it was clear as day, two syllables spoken on a pained moan that froze her to the spot.

"_Clara_."

His hand shifted up and down the hardened length of his penis, giving a small turn as it reached the top and she held her breath a moment, watching the muscles in his arm flex as he began to increase the rate of his movements. The Doctor grabbed hold of the bed with his other hand, a loud smack of his flesh against the sheets that made her jump and swallow roughly, throat suddenly dry. And she took a step forward as he muttered the first half of her name again, brow furrowing as he released himself, giving a shake of his head – as though wrestling with the notion that he was masturbating to a woman who'd been his roommate for less than a month.

A roommate who'd made a habit of cleaning up after him and cooking him dinner and offering a back rub at the end of a night. A roommate who chastised him for leaving the toilet seat up and surprised him with his favorite cookies when she went to the market, and managed to get the odd smell out of the fridge. A roommate who knew more about him in that short month than possibly anyone else in his life and he scolded her when she used his real name.

He clutched the bed with both hands, feeling the weight of his cock on his abdomen as he told himself, "She's not just some girl you wank off to, you idiot." Then he smiled, "She's the girl you should ask out on a date and properly woo and… _idiot_!"

The Doctor took several long breaths and then gasped when he felt the cooler fingers slip up his thigh to grab hold of him, straightening him in her palm as his eyes opened and he watched her give a small shrug before she moved her hand up his length and thumbed his head as he shifted up against her.

"It's flattering, actually," Clara told him plainly.

"I'm so sorry," he croaked, incapable of registering that she was sitting calmly on his bed with his dick in her hand as calmly as she would take up a mixer in the kitchen.

But she gave him a devilish grin, those large eyes focused on him as she began a slow and steady caress of his member as he bunched the sheets in his grasp and felt his vision go blurry. His mouth fell open and his head tilted back and as much as he tried to restrain himself, he let out a choked cry as she knowingly worked him over and over until he arched himself away from her and shook his head, raising a hand to her, his mouth fumbling for words before he finally stuttered, "Ground rules, got to have ground rules."

Clara sighed, looking dejected, but as she moved to stand, he reached out to grab her wrist, pulling her back down onto the bed beside him and he shook his head at her, "Bit of a mixed signal, Doctor."

"I thought maybe we'd even the playing field," he breathed, and she tilted her head, beginning to ask a question when he palmed over her sex and rubbed gently, smiling because she was already wet and he knew, without a doubt, he had the same effect on her as she had on him. "Brilliant," he sighed.

Something in her mind, in that instance, understood that her entering the room might not have been the best idea – she thought maybe it'd be a laugh. That's what roommates do, wasn't it? Have a laugh? But his fingers were shifting, curling over her knickers and bringing them down and she didn't particularly mind. Why didn't she mind? It was just her roommate. And roommates often helped one another out with impossible things – why not a little pent up sexual frustration.

Helped that he was a roommate who teased her about her burnt soufflés, let her have free reign of the television, and had suddenly decided he should bring flowers home on Wednesdays. He was the roommate who let her use his old shirts to clean in, allowed her to warm her feet under his legs while they watched horrible movies, and then rubbed them in his lap as she fell asleep. He was the roommate who asked her about her problems, and then really listened to them, and offered her advise instead of blame because he understood what she needed more than possible she knew herself.

Clara glanced up at him as he slipped the fabric over her legs and dropped them to the ground and then his hands were on her knees, gliding up her thighs and pushing her skirt to at her waist just before his head ducked and he kissed her, sending an unexpected jolt through her body. She cried out when his tongue darted unexpectedly into her and then she held her breath as his mouth closed over her, sucking lightly and then shifting back to breathe warmly against her as she exhaled. He remained motionless and for a moment she thought maybe he'd understood it was a bad idea, maybe he was trying to discern the best way to put a stop to what they were doing.

But then his lips dropped onto her again and he began rolling his tongue over her, testing her levels of delicacy as her eyes squeezed shut and her hands found his hair. When she moaned, thighs coming together, she felt him smile and then he assaulted the spot, grinding his teeth against it before lapping at it. And then she jerked against the feel of one long finger slowly sliding through her folds, rocking deeper and deeper into her until his confidence allowed him a second and Clara shouted, knowing if he continued, she would climax.

"Enough of that," he breathed against her, pulling away and dropping his palms to the bed at either side of her head before he bent to begin sucking at her neck, listening to her squirm with pleasure. Her hands slid over the shirt he wore and his head fell against her shoulder as she grabbed hold of him, guiding him down onto her and he lost his breath as he buried himself inside of her, immediately bucking his hips into her as she grunted with each movement.

Clara wrapped her legs around his backside, digging her heels into him, begging him to shift closer and work deeper within her as his lips moved to hers and she parted for him, releasing a sigh into his mouth as they began to kiss. Her body was on fire and she could feel the beginnings of her orgasm churning low in her gut just as he fell atop her fully, his weight driving him into her as she tilted up into him and then she released a laugh against his tongue, feeling him do the same, just as she came.

The Doctor's breaths were chuckles, his forehead rubbing against her temple as her muscles contracted around him, like crooked fingers inviting him to come along and it wasn't long before he joined her, a groan of pleasure replacing his amusement. He moved erratically against her and then slowed, gasping into her ear as she kissed his cheek gently and when he raised himself up on his elbows, her eyes closed at the feel of him shifting further inside of her again. A last strong pulse rolling through her body. He laughed, stroking at her hair and waited until her eyes – those big beautiful eyes – looked up into his.

"So much for ground rules," he told her with a shrug.


End file.
